


In The Wake Of Saturday

by patrickp



Series: Don't Say We're Not Meant To Be [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Polyamory, a tiny bit of angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickp/pseuds/patrickp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Me and Pete, in the wake of Saturday..."</i>
</p><p>The problem was that Joe was kind of sort of maybe falling in love with Patrick and it fucking sucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Wake Of Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> its probably too late to be writing but who cares
> 
> BUT TBH okay polyamory was a totally foreign concept and I wasn't going to have this be poly amorous and my beta was like "yo this could totally end happily ever after with polyamory" and I was like "time to get risky" but it ended good so :)

Joe was kind of in a predicament. A pickle, if you will. He was so, so fucked.

What’s the problem here, you ask?

Well, you see, Joe’s roommate Pete was in love with this guy Patrick. Joe’s currently supposed to be talking to Patrick to get him to date Pete. Now you’re asking, where’s the problem? Calm down. I haven’t told you yet.

The _problem_ was that Joe was kind of sort of maybe falling in love with Patrick and it fucking sucked. 

Joe looked at Patrick across the cafe (he wasn’t stalking, okay, he just happened to know that every morning Patrick stopped in for a coffee because that was also the cafe that Joe frequented) and rubbed his eyes. He watched as Patrick ordered, fidgeting with a string hanging from the bottom of his shirt. Man, was he fucked. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Patrick, who was just? He was too beautiful for his own fucking good.

Joe’d gotten so wrapped up in low-key stalking Patrick, he didn’t notice as Patrick picked up his drink and started walking towards Joe. Towards the door, actually, but Joe was next to the door, so.

Shit, here Joe was standing doing nothing and he didn’t think Patrick had noticed him yet, so he yanked his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and pretending to be on a call. He sighed and stuck a hand in his pocket as Patrick neared, eyes going wide in recognition. Joe held up a finger to say “hold on” and pointed at his phone, rolling his eyes. Patrick smiled and nodded, sipping his coffee as he waited on Joe.

“Yes, mom, I know. Yeah, the- the thing this weekend. I’ll try to be there.” He sighed for effect as if his mother were speaking. “Okay, okay, mom. I gotta go. Love you, bye!” Joe closed his phone and dropped it back in his pocket before turning to Patrick.

“Hey, dude!”

“Hey, yourself.” Patrick grinned behind his cup of coffee. “I’m going to assume you weren’t calling Pete ‘mom’ and that was actually your mom.”

“Oh, no, that was Pete.” Joe smirked. “Nah, that was my mom. She wants me to go to this stupid party thing this weekend but I so don’t want to. It’ll just be, like, a bunch of old people.” Joe crammed his other hand in his pocket, biting the inside of his cheek.

Patrick just nodded, sipping his coffee. “I get that. If you wanted to get out of it, Pete and I were going to hang out this weekend so you could come with and just tell your mom you already had plans. Only a little bit of a lie, right?”

Joe refrained from wincing out loud. Er, externally. Wincing doesn’t make sound. Whatever. He knew that Pete had planned for it to be like a first date and Joe just knew that Pete wouldn’t forgive him if he cockblocked. “I don’t know, man, my mom’ll be disappointed…”

“Please?” Patrick flashed Joe just a tiny bit of a puppy dog look, and Joe just couldn’t say no to that face.

Pete was _going_ to kill him. “Okay. For you.” Joe smiled, not looking forward to the castration he was going to receive when he got home.

“Perfect! Thanks, Joe.” Patrick grinned, and looked for a moment as if he were going to move in closer to Joe, but just waved and left, blushing hard.

Interesting. Joe shrugged and went to the counter to order his own coffee, thinking. How could he get out of this one? Not literally, he told Patrick he’d be there so he would be, but how he could get out of deep shit with Pete. He wasn’t sure yet, but he knew he’d have a plan by noon.

\-------------

Joe was wrong. Really wrong. It was noon and Joe had no concept of a plan. _Fuck._ He was totally going to get castrated. 

He set his head down on his desk, groaning loudly. How was he going to manage this? Joe started to brainstorm all of the reasons he needed to be with Patrick that night.

Patrick was sad and needed support. No, that wouldn’t work. Pete would notice that Patrick wasn’t sad. _Joe_ was sad and needed Patrick’s support? No, that’d seem fishy and how could Joe predict four days in advance that he was going to be sad on Saturday?

He could come down with a cold? But then Patrick would probably spend more time worrying over Joe because he was a worrier like that. 

Or the truth. Patrick wanted him to be there. Pete’s response, however, would have been to tell Patrick that No, he really needed to go to this family thing, and Sorry, maybe another time? But that wasn’t the truth. Could Joe tell Pete the truth? Maybe. The truth… which was what?

The fact of the matter was that Joe was kind of sort of maybe falling for Patrick and he couldn’t help it even though he knew he was supposed to be hooking Pete and Patrick up but he really just… didn’t _want_ to. 

Or Joe could just tell Patrick that he did need to go to the thing and ignore the entire thing, avoiding the problem altogether, because Patrick was probably already with Pete anyways, wasn’t he?

It was now 12:23 PM and Joe had a plan. Close enough to noon, right?

By the time Joe left work, he was thoroughly depressed. He’d accepted the fact that Patrick was Pete’s and he needed to keep his hands off to uphold the “bro code” or whatever that bullshit was that Pete was always preaching. Stupid, if you ask Joe, but no one was asking Joe, now were they?

Joe finally arrived at home to a rather chipper Pete, and he was _so_ not in the mood for it today. 

“Hey, Joe!”

“Hey.” Joe dropped his coat on the rack and his shoes by the door, shuffling slowly to his room tiredly.

“What’s up, dude?” Pete jumped up and walked after Joe, eyebrows drawing in concern.

“Nothing.” Joe ran a hand through his hair.

“Come on, Joe. I know you better.”

Joe refrained from snapping at Pete. He just rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Obviously not. Come on, spill.”

Joe stopped in the doorway to his bedroom. “Fine. I’m in love with someone but they’re already fucking dating someone else and it fucking sucks, okay?” Joe bit his tongue to keep from quipping out a rude comment. “Happy now?”

“I guess, kind of, but-”

“Great! I’ll talk to you later.” Joe smiled and closed the door, turning to walk three steps and fall face first into his bed, letting out a loud groan.

He was just a total fucking dick to Pete, but he didn’t even care that much. Pete was going to have to cut him some slack. Joe never let stuff like this show he figured Pete could find it in his heart to forgive him.

Joe fell asleep like that on his bed, feet hanging off the end, mouth just barely open to one side for air, thinking about how rude he’d been. He woke about an hour and a half later, clothes wrinkled and creases in his face from his blankets. And then he really realized how much of an ass he’d been to Pete.

He quickly shuffled out to the living room, finding Pete on the couch silently watching TV. Very uncharacteristic of Pete.

Joe sat down on the other end of the couch and sighed. “Listen, dude, I’m really sorry for, like, snapping at you earlier. It’s- you didn’t do anything. I was just really upset.”

Pete just nodded, chewing at his lip. “It’s okay.”

Joe nodded back, yawning. “So what the fuck is on tonight?”

“Dude. Ghostbusters.”

“Sign me the fuck up.”

\-----------------

Joe still hadn’t told Patrick he couldn’t go. It was Friday. He was so totally fucked on a subatomic level. So maybe he could just? Stay instead. He called Pete at his lunch break. 

“Hey, Pete.”

“What’s up, dude?”

“So, like… I know tomorrow was supposed to be for you like, hitting on Patrick and stuff but I- He wants me to come.” Joe sighed, rubbing his eyes as he waited for Pete’s response.

“Okay.”

“That’s- that’s it? Okay? I figured you’d be mad.”

“Nah, dude, it’s cool! You’re Patrick’s friend too and if he wants to spend time with both of us we shouldn’t argue about it. We can reschedule our one on one thing for later.”

Joe let out a colossal sigh. “Okay, cool. Thanks dude.” 

That was way easier than he’d expected. Pete was a good person. 

Joe eagerly went back to his work, more excited about Saturday. Pete and Patrick may become a thing later, but for the moment, they weren’t and Joe was just excited to spend time with his friends. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

And then it was there, Saturday, and the apartment was clean, and Patrick was going to be there any minute.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Joe asked for about the millionth time. “I can always fake sick or something-”

“Joe! Seriously. It’s cool.”

“Okay.” Joe nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, one hand crammed into his pocket.

 _Ring ring._ Doorbell.

“I’ll get it.” Pete smiled over his shoulder at Joe as he moved quickly to the door. He swung open the door, giving a quiet greeting as Patrick walked in, taking off his coat and dropping it on the rack. A moment later, he kicked his shoes off before proceeding to the kitchen, where Joe was.

“Joe! You made it! Awesome.” Patrick grinned and looked genuinely happy, which was the way Joe liked to see him.

“I told you I’d try dude, and I don’t like to disappoint.” Joe grabbed a couple cans of soda from the fridge, setting them down on the counter for his friends.

“Good.” Patrick grabbed one and went to Pete in the living room, who was already parked on the couch. Joe stood in the kitchen for a moment, watching as Patrick sat down and cuddled up to Pete, Pete’s arm falling around his shoulders naturally.

Joe sighed, but followed Patrick’s path to sit down on the couch on Patrick’s other side, but not nearly as close to him as Pete was. It made him look like quite the third wheel, which he supposed he was, but he didn’t want to be.

He listened quietly as Pete and Patrick joked and talked about the movie they were watching, Joe himself joining in for a few lewd or odd jokes, but just watching the other two’s dynamic, they way they almost finished each other’s sentences. 

A few hours into the night, Joe picked up his can and realizing it was empty, stood to get another, quickly asking if the others wanted another (they did) before walking to the kitchen to get more.

It was suspiciously quiet as Joe retrieved three cans from the fridge and he began to get a sinking feeling in his chest. He slowly closed the fridge and walked back in the living room, rounding the corner to almost cry. There he was. Patrick. Almost on Pete’s lap, their mouths a tangled mess of a kiss. Fighting back tears (because he was a man, damn it), Joe walked around the couch and quietly set down two of the three cans, keeping one for himself as he almost sprinted silently back to his room.

Fuck gender stereotypes. Joe needed to cry. He set the can down gently on his nightstand and laid down on his bed, curling up as he cried. He should have known it was coming, Pete and Patrick- he just didn’t think it’d be so soon, or so… right in front of him. Joe tried to be quiet and keep himself under control as to not interrupt, but he felt the loud, gaspy, hiccuping sobs coming on. He just was so sick of people picking Pete over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door but Joe didn’t really want to talk to either of the people in his apartment at the moment. Neither really could see him crying without him revealing himself. 

“Go away.” Joe sighed and angrily dragged his palms across his eyes, sniffling hard.

“Joe?” It was Patrick’s gentle voice, close to the door.

“Go away!” Joe grabbed a pillow and covered his face, not wanting Patrick to see him if he did enter despite Joe’s wishes.

Which he did. Joe heard the soft click of the doorknob turning and the quiet, gentle footsteps approaching him. He felt his bed dip and felt a hand on his back. “Joe? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” Joe flinched away from Patrick’s touch, sighing heavily.

“You were fine a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I think I have narcolepsy.”

“Maybe you should go to a doctor.”

“Maybe.”

Patrick was quiet for a minute. “Joe. Come here.”

“I am here, I’m, like, right next to you, dude.”

Patrick let out a sigh. “I mean, pull the pillow off your head and sit up and look at me.”

“No.”

“Joe!”

Joe was silent for a minute before angrily pulling away the pillow, sitting up and twisting to show Patrick his red eyes, his tear-stained cheeks.

Concern washed over Patrick’s face. “What’s wrong, Joe?”

Joe let out a laugh, quiet and self-degrading. “What’s wrong.” He bit his lip. “What’s wrong is I kind of am, like, in love with you but you’re obviously not if that show out there with Pete was any indication-”

“It wasn’t.” Patrick hooked a finger under Joe’s chin to lift Joe’s head to look him in the eye. “Listen. I love you and I love Pete. Do you think we can make this work?”

Joe blinked. What? “I-”

And then Patrick was kissing Joe. It was warm, and gentle, and chaste, but Joe was overwhelmed with a happiness.

Pete appeared in the doorway, grinning, and Joe got the feeling they could make it work.


End file.
